I build nests.

Faced with a move in only a few days, I’ve been experiencing a growing sense of apprehension.

I was trying to find the cause of it, but my friend put his finger on the problem. ‘You’re a nester,’ he says.

I’m assuming this perceived as a desire to make where I live a comfortable location, and a general reluctance to move once I’m in place. It doesn’t help that this move was precipitated by an outrageous raise in rent, far beyond what the place is worth. So even though the new apartment is generally better in most ways, it’s still not a move of my choice.

I’ve never been good with good-byes. Though I intellectually understand that life is change, it doesn’t make me less grumbly when it comes to leaving anything or anybody in my life behind.

That said, the new place has hardwood floors, nice arches in the doorways, more room, and less occasions for police to require entrance to the building. So maybe I should just stop whining, and get the twigs, loose bits of paper, and shiny wrappers ready for my new nest.

(Do you have any idea how hard it is to box it up? I’ve been picking up loose twigs for DAYS.)


Guns don’t kill people, silly…

Part of my job is to go through the paper, looking for references to Calgary Opera. I have to go through pretty much every section, since we do so much. So I see this in the business section:


And for some reason, I just got angry. I think it’s the tone. That, by itself, is nothing new. That playful nature is an attempt to make tepid stock quotes more exciting. Normally I don’t even think about it.

It’s the sort of twisted innocence that really riles me. The playful banter, at the same time directly pointing out the profit of war, seems to only be possible if there is no real understanding of the world beyond those quotes, the cordite smell of a bullet being fired, the taste of blood, or the acid in your stomach, anxiety about being in a war zone. And that’s just including the major conflicts, not the gun-realted crime throughout the world.

This whole post is feeling naive, but I’m stuck with being so. There’s a part of me that is still incredulous that many of the wrong things in this world happen, but I have, over time, developed a shell to assist in ignoring it.

Writing like this, viewpoints like this, somehow crack through this shell of ignorance that I’ve spent all this time building.

Apologia for Silence.

I’ve been quiet lately.

For the period of about a year, I wrote eleven articles for a web-magazine that intended to cater to those on the cusp of twenty. I was already past that cusp, and my writing didn’t reflect the questions and concerns of that age gap, but for some reason, they let me ramble on. I was given an avenue to speak about any concept that interested me, and I did so. (I’ll include a link to where those articles can now be found, below.)

It’s been at least two years since I  had that avenue open to me. I tried, in the meantime, to start two different blogs, one with a spiritual theme, the other political. They atrophied and are no longer updated or visited, simply because I found I often couldn’t continually come up new or interesting content. Or the things I felt like sharing couldn’t be pigeonholed into one of two categories.

So here’s a place where I can talk about whatever I want to, either deep introspective essays, or just sharing news and announcements from my life.

Ultimately, though, this is a place where I can finally get out of my own way, and simply rant and ramble without worrying about an overarching theme.

I’ve been getting more used to this New Internet, this Web 2.0, which, Wikipedia aside, is no longer just web-pages of information, but now hyper-linked communities. It’s no longer just a place of reading, it is now a place of communication. In that spirit I begin again, the silence having been a useful period of percolation.

Let’s get talking!
(The link to the old articles…)